


Beach of Melancholy Thoughts

by AmateurScribes



Series: RvB Angst War 2017 [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Character Injury, RvB Angst War, RvB Angst War 2017, RvB Season 15 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 12:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11162343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: Simmons came back for Grif but Grif would be willing to bet his life (or maybe not his life but something of equal value) that something was seriously wrong.





	Beach of Melancholy Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from RiatheDreamer: "Grif sees Simmons again- and discovers it isn't the real Simmons."
> 
> Ah, this is my first time doing an Angst War so I hope I did my best! This prompt was so much fun to do so I hope you all enjoy it!

At the time, quitting the group had seemed to be the greatest decision he’s ever made. After being dragged on adventure after adventure it felt good to finally say _no._

It also felt _really_  good going off on them the way he did. (Maybe Donut was right; venting really did take off some steam- and no that train of thought ends there.)

But after a few days, it didn’t start to feel as good.

Dexter Grif was not meant to stay in a quiet environment; ever.

From having to deal with loud tourists to visiting the circus that mom joined to having to bust Kai out of parties to being stationed at _that_ colo _-_

Grif was just used to living with loud noises and constant distractions despite his complaining about it all the time.

Because really how was someone supposed to get some peace and quiet when Sarge was trying to fight gravity or having to deal with Tucker talking shit or having to listen to Carolina when she tried to si- and he’s not even going to finish that thought in case she had that keen sense of just _knowing_ like Tex seemed to have.

So just after a few days, being alone had gotten boring really, _really_ fast. But he was slowly being accustomed to it because that’s what he wanted all along, right? Just to be left alone with some peace and quiet.

Which is why when _Simmons_ , seamlessly showed up out of _nowhere_ Grif had figured out that something was seriously _wrong._

The first red flag was just from how Simmons was posturing himself. After spending years with Grif, the dude had learned to relax at least somewhat. But here he was gallivanting back to Grif with a back so straight that it would make a damn ruler jealous and with a swagger to his walk that Grif hadn’t seen since Basic.

The second red flag came from how Simmons talked to him. The lilt to his voice was all wrong and it was nothing like how they’ve ever talked to each other. Seriously, it was like the dude had never met Grif in his entire life. Hell, he had been a better communicator as a bundle of nerves back in Basic than the hot mess currently in front of him.

It was at this point that Grif started to really put up his guard. Just, something about how Simmons had just showed up out of the blue and was talking to him as if he was talking to some random guy on the street _really put Grif on edge._

It was when Simmons (or maybe not Simmons; a clone perhaps?) had asked where “Kaikaina was?” that Grif’s last preverbal red flag started waving frantically in his head.

Never, in all the time that Grif has known Simmons, has he ever heard him call his sister anything other Kai or just sister.

Immediately, and with some slightly subtly on his part, Grif had reached for his Battle Rifle from off his back but the other Simmons must have picked up that his ruse had failed (and really the guy must not have been trying that hard- that is, of course, if this really wasn’t Simmons) and he started to aim with his own gun and-

It suddenly occurred to Grif that he must have somehow ended up in some old western movie. It was one of those classic scenes where two cowboys stood off against each other, guns drawn ready to fire, tumbleweed blowing in the background, and they both had seconds to shoot first or die.

Except, he wasn’t in a western movie, and they weren’t in the Midwest they were on the beach and Grif wasn’t a cowboy and Simmons (Not Simmons) was also defiantly not a cowboy either, and there weren't seconds to fire first beca-

A crack rang out through the air and Grif’s laying on the sand, and for once in his miserable life- _for once he’s glad he’s wearing armor._

Not Simmons (or maybe still Simmons?) walked up to him as he was potentially bleeding to death.

He’s saying something, but the words aren’t making any sense to him. All Grif can focus on is how he’s been shot and _son of a bitch he was shot-_

It doesn’t even matter if he can understand Not-But-Maybe Simmons because his hearings going in and out in and out in and _fucking out-_

How did Donut survive getting shot by Washington? Something must have kept him alive through the odds. But whether that was through some divine intervention or just Donut being a fucking cockroach he doesn’t know but what he does know is that getting shot hurts like a _bitch._

He thinks he can hear Unsure-If Simmons talk about some armor lock or whatever the fuck, but even if Grif cared enough to know what that is, he’s been shot and he _can’t focus-_

“By my calculations-“

By his calculations, this probably wasn’t Simmons.

“-there’s a low probability that anyone will come back for you in time-“

Maybe it was Simmons and this was just a Meta or O’Malley situation all over again because of course, Church came with all sorts of AI problems.

Maybe it was a Met’alley situation for all he kne- and wow when did the sky become so interesting?

“-so there’s no need to worry about the armor lock function actually doing its job and keeping you alive. But-“

The sun was dipping low beyond the horizon; symbolically this could mean many things. In most of the literature that he’s read (during those times when real life was just _too much for him and sue him for wanting to escape the realities of his hellish childhood_ ) a sunrise would be used to represent, just, naturally good things: a new start, hope, and a bunch of other idealistic bullshit.

“-just in case you manage to live longer than any Freelancer has thus far, by some miracle, I’ll check up on you in about 9 days-"

But a _sunset_ usually represented bad things like a lost opportunity, a loss of hope-

A loss of life.

“-and finish the job so to speak.”

Suns and symbols were bullshit. This Met’alley Simmons was also bullshit. But he was already leaving, heading towards whatever ship he had arrived in.

Grif’s unsure if the cold is from being close to the ocean, or because of the amount of blood he was losing.

He’s unsure if he can’t move because he’s losing feeling in his limbs or because of that armor _whatever_ Liquid Simmons was blabbering on about.

He can feel his eyelids dip down and flutter open in a cyclic pattern and- wow if that wasn’t irony. (Is this ironic? It feels ironic and whether or not it actually ironic is a debate he won’t have because the assholes who contributed to it _aren’t here and oh god they wouldn’t and won’t be here because Grif’s a piece of shit who left and why would they come back for someone like him when they could have someone like Chur-)_

For the first in his life, Grif really didn’t want to fall asleep.

But his eyes closed anyways and the last bit of sunlight disappeared below the horizon out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Tumblr @agent-murica, if you want to send in any prompts!


End file.
